In the synthesis between the anus and the cock lies the sausage. This oral-anal limb, slippery, hot, brimming, is the same tube that carries food through us and the same tube that spurts desire. A skin stretched around mush. Here the animal and the lustful meet. What slides in and what runs out. The sausage is intake and expulsion. What you eat. What you flush away. Same thing. Meat is time's material crap. It arises. It is eaten. It becomes something else. Death is no end. Only passage. Peristalsis. Cycle. Sausage becomes turd. Body becomes soil. Soil becomes new meat. Nothing disappears. Everything passes. Over and over again. The sacred stinks just as much as the unclean. The sausage holds both. And neither of them. Here at the Sausage Factory we celebrate the crap and the beautiful as the same thing. We celebrate what cannot be named: the sublime, the abject, that which sticks. We eat. We shit. Then we begin again.

Cara Lien

Events

Past events

Jun 12, 2026

P.I.G. Performance in Grenland · Porsgrunn Internasjonale Teaterfestival

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